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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/25366057">Home</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/badwolfrun/pseuds/panchostokes'>panchostokes (badwolfrun)</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Series:</b></td><td>Prompt Fics [81]</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>MacGyver (TV 2016)</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>F/M, Fluff, Forehead Touching, Pre-Series</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>Completed</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2020-07-18</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2020-07-18</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-05 09:14:16</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>General Audiences</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>No Archive Warnings Apply</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>1</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>764</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/25366057</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/badwolfrun/pseuds/panchostokes</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>Jack returns home to Diane after a long mission and a fight with a squirrel. Pre-series.</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Jack Dalton/Diane Davis (MacGyver TV 2016)</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Series:</b></td><td>Prompt Fics [81]</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Series URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/series/1540795</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>7</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>17</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>Home</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><ul class="associations">
      <li>For <a href="https://archiveofourown.org/users/deltajackdalton/gifts">deltajackdalton</a>.</li>



    </ul><blockquote class="userstuff">
      <p>for delta, who sent two prompts to me, this was one of them: Kissing on sofa, foreheads pressed together, breathy, soft tender.</p>
    </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    
<p></p><div class="">
  <p>Nothing was ever as comforting as crossing the threshold of a home, a personal sanctuary, after a long mission.</p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>Except he wasn’t quite <em>home. </em>It wasn’t quite <em>his </em>sanctuary. </p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>Diane had been grateful enough to let him stay at her home while his apartment was fumigated—at least, that’s what he told her was happening. In reality, the safe house that had been given to him was getting bullet holes filled and a new set of furniture.</p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>He insisted on sleeping on the couch, not wanting to impose as they were still learning about each other in the early weeks of their relationship. Or...months, he realizes, though it doesn’t seem like that length of time at all, because she certainly doesn’t know him as well as he knows her.</p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>And she never will.</p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>Beyond that, he always leaves the progress of the relationship up to the woman, at all times but most especially in her own residence. While he had followed the order given to him, “make yourself at home,” he always knew it wouldn’t quite be <em>their</em> home until they had matching rings and made vows to each other with a holy man and more than a few witnesses to tell the tale of their love.</p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>Until then, it’s her house, her rules, her decisions, and as far as he’s concerned, he’s a guest. </p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>And as he walks into the living room walking as quietly and gently as he can, setting his bag down and stretching out with a yawn, he sees that she made a decision to wait up for him.</p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>“Aw, hon, you didn’t hafta wait on me,” he coos to her as she pats the space on the couch next to her, engulfing him in the blanket she was tangled in.</p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>“I couldn’t sleep, I was getting so worried, you said you’d be home two hours ago!”</p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>“Flight got delayed, phone lost service. I’m sorry,” he lifts her up so that she’s cradled against his chest on his lap, she readjusts the blanket to cover them. He can already feel the soreness in his body melt away.</p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>“Well, you’re just gonna have to find a way to make it up to me, then,” she smiles. She presses her palm against his cheek, running over a fainting scratch. “What happened here?”</p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>“Got into a fight with a squirrel,” he lies. She has to know it’s a lie, too, but still laughs at the good nature of his humor.</p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>“I’m going to have to have some words with that squirrel,” she whispers, her hand slides behind his head, reeling him in closer to her’s. Their foreheads touch, he can taste her breath, the home cooked meal that he already knows she has packed up in the refrigerator for him. “For dinging up such a handsome face.”</p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>“I don’t deserve you,” he breathes, his lips quivering as they try to mask the musky taste of smoke and dust in his own breath, leftovers from the smoking building he ran into to retrieve important documents that would compromise national security unless he hand delivered them to Matilda Webber.</p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>“Oh, baby,” Diane presses her lips on the scratch, before showering the rest of his face with gentle pecks until she finds his lips. “Yes, you do.”</p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>Their lips merge and his doubts dribble away into the back of his throat. He moves a hand up her back, up to her hair, he tangles his fingers within the soft strands and accepts the homecoming gift that goes down on the list of best kisses in his life.</p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>“Gross,” a weary, but loud voice chuckles, which snaps his eyes open.</p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>A weary Riley walks past them, dressed in an oversized t-shirt and a pair of shorts, heading towards the refrigerator to grab a midnight snack.</p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>“Excuse me, young lady,” Diane begins in a warming tone.</p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>“It’s alright,” Jack diffuses with a hand up in the air. “Ri, nice you see you—?”</p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>“Whatever,” she mumbles, before sulking back towards her bedroom.</p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>“Oh, that girl...” Diane shakes her head, before meeting Jack’s shining eyes. “What’re you smiling about?”</p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>“She’s wearing one of my shirts.”</p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>“She kept asking when you were coming home, you know,” Diane whispers with a smile into his ear.</p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>“Really?” his face lights up, his eyebrows in a raised curve. He tenderly strokes her back as she closes her eyes, snuggles closer to him.</p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>“Mmhmm. I’m so glad you’re here with us.”</p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>He wraps both arms around her and she falls asleep on his shoulder before she can hear his tearful response.</p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>“I am too.”</p>
</div>
  </div></div>
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